


for him.

by ohsofitting



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Song fic, Swearing, based off of for him. by Troye Sivan, ehhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsofitting/pseuds/ohsofitting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>don't need money, all I need is you</p>
            </blockquote>





	for him.

_**We are runnin' so fast** _  
_**And we never look back** _  
_**And whatever I lack, you make up** _  
_**We make a really good team** _  
_**And though not everyone sees** _  
_**We got this crazy chemistry** _  
_**Between us** _

Where Pete lacked in musical talent, Patrick filled the holes. Where Patrick lacked in lyric-writing, Pete could lend a hand. But it was so much more than that.

On a chilly, snowy day in Chicago, Patrick couldn't help but hate himself for forgetting a jacket. He had been in the studio for the past two days straight, recording their first ever album, and when he had left his apartment on Wednesday it was definitely not in the negatives. He wasn't sure if he was awake enough to even drive back to his house.

So there he found himself, having been kicked out of the studio by the damn janitors and cursing himself for not bringing a charger for his phone.

He started to pace around the parking lot, trying to keep warm whilst thinking of what the hell the next step is. A horn honked from behind him, and as he turned around, he was encompassed in a soft hug. Pete.

"Patrick, you're a fucking moron." Said the older man, kissing the younger's forehead and pulling him toward the car. Patrick had never been more thankful for his boyfriend than in this moment.

"Love you." They said at the same time. Two halves of a whole.

_**Jump starting your car cause this city's a bore** _  
_**Buying e-cigarettes at the convenience store** _  
_**Making new clichés on our own little tour** _  
_**Let's ride** _

Pete was very thankful for his parent's new convertible. He was even more thankful for Patrick's boring old civic the two used to jumpstart the new car. They may or may not have stolen the convertible, and Pete was in the mood for something reckless.

So, the two jumped in, Pete in the drivers seat, occasionally glancing at Patrick's soft skin in the glowing light of the setting sun. He felt like the most common cliche in all of the romantic comedies he had ever fallen asleep to, and he loved it.

An hour later, the men found themselves in a 7/11, Pete checking out a pack of cigarettes and Patrick laughing around the straw of a blue Slurpee. In the parking lot lit by the moon and the street lights, their kisses tasted of blue raspberry and cigarette smoke. Pete laughed as Patrick coughed on his own cigarette, complaining of his asthma and accusing his boyfriend of trying to ruin his voice. Pete just admired his bright blue lips and tongue, kissing him stupid.

He was so thankful.

_**You don't have to say I love you to say I love you** _  
_**Forget all the shooting stars and all the silver moons** _  
_**We've been making shades of purple out of red and blue** _

Of course, their relationship has never been perfect. But in one moment, the two of them knew it would be forever.

Pete had pulled Patrick onto the fire escape on a warm summer night. They sat side by side, gazing at the stars and sharing the occasional profound thought. The slight wind that brushed by every couple of minutes made bumps on Patrick's skin, his head rested on Pete's shoulder.

But Pete couldn't think of the stars and the bright full moon, even as Patrick pointed at a comet and told him to make a wish. Pete had called it beautiful, but Patrick didn't realize it was pointed to him.

The younger was dozing in and out on the older's shoulder after awhile, so they headed back in. The two plopped on the soft brown couch, Patrick partially on top of Pete, goosebumps still visible on his pale skin. Pete just pulled the blanket on the couch over them, kissed Patrick's head, and closed his eyes.

He knew it would last forever.

_**Sickeningly sweet like honey, don't need money** _  
_**All I need is you** _  
_**All I need is you** _

They were so low on money, Patrick had resorted to eating slices of bread about twice a day. Joe had moved in with him and Pete, and they had gigs every once in awhile. The stage fright was almost too much for Patrick to handle, but the thought of having enough money to eat real food afterward propelled him through it.

Still, he was in love with his band mate. Sloppy make-out sessions late at night, cuddling in the van on the way to shows to calm them down, just talking to Pete reassured Patrick that their poverty wouldn't be forever. Meanwhile, he didn't need something as materialistic as money. He could get by, as long as it was with Pete.

We try staying up late  
But we both are light weights  
Yeah we get off our face, too easy

They had just finished a gig at a shitty bar filled with teenagers with fake ID's. Patrick wasn't even old enough to drink himself, sitting next to Pete with bold black X's on his hands. But, being Pete Wentz had its perks. So there they sat, a dozen beers in between them, some empty and some full.

It was around two in the morning, and Joe and their new drummer Andy were in the van sleeping until they had to leave in about four hours.

Patrick laughed and leaned into Pete for more balance, Pete kissing his cheek sloppily. He felt a sense of nostalgia, even in this drunken state, watching the silver of the moon and the yellow of the nearby street lamp reflect off of the smaller's skin.

Being Pete Wentz definitely had its perks.

_**And we take jokes way too far** _  
_**And sometimes living's too hard** _  
_**We're like two halves of one heart** _  
_**We are, we are, we are** _

They hadn't been able to eat and Patrick had barely slept in three days. He was running on empty, strung more tightly than his guitar.

He had blown up at Pete for something too fucking stupid, and was angry at himself for making his band want to stay away from him, and was angry at the world for being so unfair.

He was leaned up against the van's back wheel holding back tears when he heard footsteps and saw a pair of ugly high top sneakers. Pete.

"I'm sorry." They said at the same time. Patrick knew and tried to insist that it was his fault, but Pete held up two twenty dollar bills.

He lifted Patrick by his underarms and hugged him tighter than ever before, kissing every inch of his face. The four of them walked to the closest Waffle House about ten minutes away, and Patrick figured things would have to start looking up eventually.

_**All I need is you** _  
_**All I need is you** _

Pete looked at Patrick like he hung the stars in the sky. Like he was the only person alive on a dark and desolate planet.

They were two halves of a whole, the sun and the moon, two linked hands in front of the sunrise.

Pete looked at Patrick lying atop their dark sheets, his hair ruffled and the dark marks Pete left on his skin lit beautifully by the slowly rising sun. His cheeks were pink and his red lips open slightly. And Pete felt certain, unadulterated love.

Patrick was all he'd ever need.


End file.
